


Came From Afar

by sunken_ships (sunken__ships)



Series: C'est Moi 'Verse [4]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drunken Shenanigans, Morning After, Multi, One Night Stands, One Shot, this is not a teacher/student fic or anything like that, yes George is a professor but he's not Laf's professor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 10:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7099933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunken__ships/pseuds/sunken_ships
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The morning after a wild Christmas party, Lafayette wakes up in bed. With a couple. <br/>Specifically, George and Martha Washington.<br/>His friend Alex's parents.<br/>Shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Came From Afar

**Author's Note:**

> yo yo so this is a fic that is basically an expansion of chapter seven (Christmas Party pt 4) of my multichapter fic C'est moi. If you're a c'est moi reader who's stumbled across this, hello! welcome back! yes, i DID write one-shots in that 'verse, just like i promised!  
> if you're not from c'est moi, i'll give u a quick run-down of everything u need to know for this:  
> -George and Martha are Alex's adoptive parents  
> -Laf, Alex, John, and Herc all live together in an apartment and have crazy crushes on each other (but they won't admit it)  
> -this is set the morning after a dress-up Christmas party at the Schuylers'  
> -Laf, Martha, and George were a liiiiiittle drunk  
> hope u like it!! xx

     Lafayette woke to a pounding head and a dry mouth. He lay still, completely unmoving, hoping that sleep would blissfully envelope him once again, but he had a pretty good feeling that that wouldn’t happen. So, eyes barely even open, he managed to get himself out of bed.

     He wasn’t at home. He was at a stranger’s house. And he was naked.

     That wasn’t a concern of Lafayette’s right then – his full bladder had his utmost attention. He automatically reached for his phone in his jeans pocket, and pulled on his boxers.

     He found the bathroom. He went about his business, washed his hands, took a drink, and splashed his face with water – noting, in the mirror, how foul he looked, with his make-up smudged and his eyes a little bloodshot. He dried his face on a towel, and turned his attention to his phone.

     There were a number of messages from John and a couple from Alex.

     Lafayette sighed. He did not have the mental strength to have a conversation right now. _John_ , he messaged, _mon cher, I love you, but please stop messaging us_.

     As he headed out of the bathroom, he decided to try to find the kitchen. It was freezing. Why had he only pulled on his boxers? What kind of fucking stupid idea was that?

     He’d gone home with a couple last night, he could remember that much. An older couple. And, well, they hadn’t disappointed, despite their inebriated states. That being said, neither had Lafayette.

     The couple, Lafayette assumed, were still in bed.

     Where had he found them, again? At another party. Not the Schuylers’ party; a different one. After a trip to the local McDonald’s. With whom? Some of Peggy’s friends?

     He looked back down at his phone. John was asking where everyone was, so he let him know. _I think I left the party last night with some people to go to mcdonald’s and we may have crashed another party by accident. I found a nice man who was also drunk and I went home with him._

 _Did u sleep with him??_ John asked him.

_I did. And also his wife, who was at the party with him._

     Lafayette managed a slight frown, more memories coming back to him in pieces. _I think I saw my professor there_ , he added in the group chat as the memory resurfaced. He had: he remembered thinking how odd it was to run into his professor off-campus. At a party, no less.

     He made it down the stairs and found the kitchen.

     His phone buzzed. _Do u know the guy u slept with?_ Hercules had asked him.

     Lafayette thought. He couldn’t exactly remember who it had been. _No_ , he replied. He pulled out random drawers to find a glass, and then filled it with water.

     He paused, his brain whirring slowly, and he pulled out his phone. _Wait a minute_ , he messaged his friends. _I know this house_.

 _Laf_ , Hercules said, _who did u sleep with_.

     A photo frame hanging on the wall caught his eye, and he froze. Wait. That was…

     “ _Mon Dieu_ ,” he muttered.

     He set down his glass of water to type, _I went to the bathroom as soon as I woke up and then the kitchen for some water and the couple is still asleep but_. He paused. _Uh-oh_.

     He approached the photo. He knew that photo. He knew the little boy in that photo. And he knew the parents. Oh, man, did he know the parents.

 _Uhhh… Alex…?_ he messaged. _U were a cute little boy_.

 _How do u know that_ , Alex messaged back instantly.

     Lafayette explained. _I’m looking at a photo of u. Hanging on the wall._

_Are u… at my old house????_

     Lafayette took a steady breath. _Alex I have some news_.

 _Laf did u crash a teacher’s party_ , John said. Lafayette nodded to himself. Right. That explained a few things. Why he’d seen his professor; why he’d run into Alex’s father, a professor at the college.

 _Alex_ , he said. _I slept with ur parents_.

 

     Alex didn’t take the news too well. In his defence, Lafayette doubted anyone would have taken such news well. After screaming at Lafayette in caps lock, he demanded that Lafayette go home to their shared apartment immediately.

     Lafayette made no such promises. In fact, he decided to stick around. Partly because he didn’t want to be rude, and partly because, hey, he’d run into the Washingtons soon enough anyway. May as well get the awkward bit over and done with.

     He busied himself in the kitchen, as well as he could with his skull-splitting headache and slightly rocky stomach. He got some coffee going, and was just searching for some eggs and bacon in the fridge when Martha shuffled out, wrapped in a fluffy dressing down. Her hair was a mess, last night’s make-up circling her eyes like a raccoon’s markings.

     She was barely even awake, squinting at Lafayette as she gave him a hesitant smile. “Um… Hello, Gilbert.”

     “Morning, Martha,” Lafayette said brightly – not too brightly, he wasn’t superhuman – barely sparing her a glance on his hunt for hangover food.

     Alex’s parents were the only ones who called him Gilbert. He didn’t mind.

     “Is that… Did you make coffee?”

     Lafayette did pull away from the fridge at that, turning to the coffee machine. “ _Oui_. I figured we could all use some, no?”

     Martha made her way over, slowly, carefully, and poured herself a cup. “Thank you.”

     “Not a problem.” Lafayette turned back to the fridge, and spied the eggs. He pulled them out. They didn’t seem to have any bacon, but that didn’t matter.

     Martha watched him silently as he set the eggs on the bench. “George is just in the shower,” she said.

     “Okay.”

     She set down her mug. “How… How are you feeling?”

     Lafayette gave her a grim smile. “Not too good. Headache. What about you?”

     She let out the smallest of laughs. “I’m too old to drink like that.”

     Lafayette chuckled. “Everyone needs a wild night every once in a while.”

     Martha’s cheeks went pink. “Uh, yes, well, I suppose.” She cleared her throat. Then she perked up. “Oh, of course, we have painkillers. In the bathroom. I’ll just go and get them. Sorry. Oh God, you must be freezing, as well. I’ll get you a sweater. And um–” She reached for a drawer and pulled it out, revealing some frypans. “Not that I’m expecting you to cook breakfast. Actually, just grab your coffee and sit. I’ll be back in a minute. Don’t do anything.”

     Lafayette waited until she was out of the room, and then went about making eggs. They were just sizzling in the pan – sunny-side up, two eggs each – when he realised he’d forgotten the toast. He’d been too focused on trying not to throw up from the smell of the eggs.

     Oh, and his coffee was cold now, too.

     Martha entered the room again, and tutted. “Gilbert.”

     Lafayette flashed her a smile. “I couldn’t help myself.”

     Martha set two tablets on the kitchen bench nearby and picked up his coffee. “Oh, this is cold,” she said. “I’ll make some more for you.” She poured him a glass of water. “For the painkillers,” she explained, and handed him a hoodie. “It was George’s, in college,” she added.

     Lafayette thanked her and pulled on the hoodie, and then knocked the tablets back. “Oh, Martha, could you put some toast on? I completely forgot.”

     “Yes, of course,” Martha said.

     Lafayette couldn’t deny that this was a little weird. Like, okay, he’d slept with the woman last night – which was a bizarre enough thought as it was – but now they were being all domestic? He’d always enjoyed some good banter with the Washingtons – partly because they were great to chat to, and partly because it embarrassed the hell out of Alex – but this was something different altogether.

     Then George walked into the room, skin glowing from the shower. His eyes fell on Lafayette, who was dressed only in boxers and his college hoodie, and he swallowed. He said nothing, and went straight for the fresh coffee Martha had just made.

     “Good morning, George,” Lafayette said, and George choked a little on his coffee.

     “Good morning,” he replied, his voice tight.

     Martha patted her husband’s arm. “I’ll just be in the shower,” she said, and left.

     The eggs were just about done – probably a little overcooked, actually; Hercules usually did the cooking at home – so Lafayette took them off the heat, serving them onto three separate plates. The toast was nearly done, too. “How did you sleep?” he asked George.

     George took a sip of coffee like it was whiskey, calming his nerves. “Uh, good. Fine. You?”

     “Fine,” Lafayette replied mildly. _Like a fucking log_ , he thought. _You and your wife did an excellent job of exhausting me._

     The toast popped up. Lafayette divided the slices up evenly between the three plates, and gingerly slid a plate in George’s direction. “There’s breakfast.”

     George only seemed to realise then that Lafayette had been cooking. “Oh,” he said. “Oh, thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

     Lafayette shrugged a shoulder, and grabbed his own plate and his coffee.

     The two sat at the dining table, cutlery in hand. _Is this where Alex used to sit when he was a kid?_ Lafayette thought, and quickly put the idea out of mind. That was far too weird to think about.

     Lafayette sipped at the coffee. Oh man, that hit the spot.

     They ate in silence for a while. George seemed to be sneaking glances at Lafayette, but whenever Lafayette looked back, George would hurriedly glance away.

     Eventually, Lafayette couldn’t take it anymore. He had to say _something_. “How are the eggs?”

     George nodded. “Good.” He paused, and then finally looked Lafayette in the face. “Don’t… Don’t tell Alex. About this.”

     Lafayette pursed his lips. “He kinda already knows.”

     George’s face went a little pale. “I see,” he said.

     “John was wondering where we all were, and I–”

     “That’s fine, Gilbert,” George cut in. “You don’t have to explain.”

     Lafayette took a sip of coffee. Another awkward silence descended. Lafayette hated it, so he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “You know, for someone who hasn’t slept with a man for years, you were pretty good.”

     George stopped, and he didn’t seem to know what to say to that. “Uh…”

     Lafayette took a moment to ponder why the _fuck_ he’d just said that, and then said, “Your wife was good as well. You’re a very talented couple.”

     Lafayette closed his eyes and sighed. _Why am I like this._

     George’s face was turning dark. “That’s… very kind of you.”

     Lafayette shovelled some food into his mouth to stop himself from saying anything else.

     George’s eyes were on his mug. “You were – also, very – talented.”

     Lafayette almost inhaled his food in shock.

     Martha took that moment to re-enter the kitchen, sighing contentedly as she did so. “ _Much_ better,” she said. She paused. “Oh, Gilbert, dear, are you okay?”

     Lafayette took a drink. “I’m fine,” he said weakly.

     Martha collected her breakfast and coffee and joined them at the table. “What did I miss?” she said with a smile, running her hands through her still fairly wet hair. “Oh, thank you for this, Gilbert. It smells lovely.”

     Now Lafayette _definitely_ felt out of place. He was the only one still wearing last night’s make-up, last night’s sweat, the taste of last night’s alcohol on his tongue. And he was the only one not dressed.

     Oh yeah, and he was the only one not _married_ to either person at the table. And he was the only one younger than, what, forty? Forty-five?

     Holy shit, he’d slept with two people more than twice his age.

     “Um,” he said, moving his breakfast around his plate with his fork, his voice a little higher than normal, “so, um, what party were you at? Last night?”

     Martha and George exchanged wry, knowing smiles. “It was John Adams’ birthday,” Martha explained.

     Lafayette smiled a little. He didn’t know who John Adams was, but he wagered a guess it was a fellow professor. “Oh,” he said. “Pretty wild?”

     George snorted and Martha laughed. “God no,” George said. “Why do you think we were drinking so much? It was so we could fucking make it through the night.”

     “George,” Martha chastised in a whisper, nudging him arm.

     “Oh, no, it’s fine,” Lafayette said. Jesus, the _last_ thing he was concerned about was fucking _swearing_.

     George gave Martha an exasperated look. “What?” he said defensively.

     Martha shook her head and smiled, starting on her breakfast. “Excuse him, Gilbert. He’s a bit grumpy in the morning.”

     “I’m hungover,” George said around a mouthful. He swallowed. “And so are you, my darling wife.”

     “And so is our guest, I’m sure,” Martha said with a condescending smile. “So I doubt your attitude is helping with his headache.”

     Lafayette couldn’t help but laugh at that. He’d always admired Martha’s quick wit.

     He paused as a new memory from the night before fell into place: Martha completely roasting her husband, making Lafayette laugh until he couldn’t breathe. _Look at you in your suit. You think you’re_ so _important, don’t you, Mr Important Professor? You’re no better than any of the other dipshits here. You know where we are, George? We’re at a colleague’s birthday party. We don’t even_ like _him, but we’re here, because we never get invited anywhere. Well,_ you _never get invited anywhere. I go out more than you do. I’m sure Gilbert goes out all the time. Gilbert has friends, I have friends. Do you know what ‘friends’ are, George? Do you?_

     Despite himself, he couldn’t help but smile a little. It _had_ been pretty funny. And, to his credit, George had taken it well.

     The other two were oblivious to his realisation. “You’re one to talk about attitude,” George muttered.

     Martha set her knife and fork down very slowly, and George held up his hands. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I take it back.”

     Martha smiled smugly. “Good.” She looked to Lafayette. “He has to be put in his place sometimes. He has this fancy job at the fancy college, and suddenly he thinks he’s God.”

     “I do not!”

     “He just has to be reminded who the _real_ boss is around here.” Martha turned back to her husband and leant forward for a kiss, which George gave her, albeit with a roll of his eyes.

     Lafayette politely averted his gaze.

     He glanced up as Martha cleared her throat. “Um, I don’t suppose it would be too much to ask, Gilbert, but–”

     “Alex already knows,” George interrupted, answering her question.

     Martha’s face went pink. “Uh, what did he say?”

     Lafayette chuckled. “Well, after a few very angry messages, he said that he was speechless.”

     “That’s a first,” George said, and Martha laughed.

     “I was just about to say that,” she said. She hid her face behind her hands. “Oh dear. Our poor boy’s never going to be able to look us in the eye again.”

     “Maybe I should sleep with him; make it even,” Lafayette offered jokingly, before he realised that Alex’s parents were probably not the people to be making that kind of joke with.

     George grimaced. “Be my guest. Just don’t tell me.”

     Martha screwed up her nose. “George, don’t encourage him.”

     George shrugged. “Look, Alex probably needs it. He’s so wound-up all the time.”

     “Oh, he’s fine, in that regard,” Lafayette assured them. “In fact, he went home with a girl last night.”

     “A girl?” Martha said. “I thought he preferred guys.”

     “He likes both, honey,” George said.

     “I know that, George. I just thought he preferred guys.”

     Lafayette was a little surprised at the scene before him, if he were being honest. How they discussed their son’s sex life so liberally. At least they were concerned for his wellbeing, Lafayette supposed.

     “Maybe you _should_ sleep with him, Gilbert,” George said. “He wouldn’t have a problem with pent-up frustration for a while after you.”

     Martha slapped George’s arm. “George!” she cried.

     “I mean, it’s true,” George said. “You can’t deny that Gilbert _really_ knows what he’s doing.”

     Martha sighed, closing her eyes. “Lord, give me strength,” she muttered.

     “That’s what you were saying last night, too.”

     Lafayette choked.

     George pointed to him. “And that’s what he did, as well.”

     Martha threw her hands in the air. “George!”

     George was smiling now, but clearly trying to pretend he wasn’t. “What?”

     Martha glared at him. “I’m getting a divorce.”

     “But then you’d miss my amazing sense of humour.”

     Martha turned to Lafayette. “Gilbert, I am so sorry about this.”

     “He’s the one that made you say it!” George said. “If anything, _he_ should be apologising to _you_.”

     “George, I have had it up to here with your smart-ass–”

     “My ass? You’d miss that pretty bad as well, honey.”

     “I hope Alex isn’t this bad,” Martha said to Lafayette, completely ignoring her husband.

     Lafayette shook her head. “Oh, no,” he said. “He’s much worse.”

     Martha looked at him with pity. “Feel free to smack him over the head. I find it works with his father.”

     “I do not condone abuse,” George said. “Unless it’s consensual and I ask for it.”

     “You always fucking ask for it,” Martha said under her breath, cutting off a piece of egg.

     Lafayette laughed. Okay, he was starting to see what had attracted him to the Washingtons in the first place.

     Whose idea had it been, anyway? What had started it all? Lafayette couldn’t remember for the life of him, and he didn’t want to ask, either. Maybe it would just be one of those things that would always remain a mystery.

     Martha perked up, looking to Gilbert. “Oh, Gilbert, how rude of us. There you are, probably dying for a shower, and we’re here bickering.”

 _Yes, please, a shower_ , Lafayette thought eagerly, but he just shrugged a shoulder. “I imagine I’m not the nicest person to look at right now.”

     “Well, that’s debatable,” Martha said offhandedly – so casually that it took a moment for Lafayette to realise that, _Well,_ that _was a bit flirty, wasn’t it?_ – and rose. “I’ll show you where it is. George, don’t burn the house down while I’m gone.”

     “I’ll do my best, my love,” George said dryly.

     Martha led Lafayette to the guest bathroom, and fetched him a towel. “Take all the time you need,” she said with a smile. “And feel free to use anything in there.”

     “ _Merci_ ,” Lafayette said, and he was left alone.

     Most of his shower was spent turning over and over in his head the question, did he regret sleeping with the Washingtons?

     Was it unorthodox, bordering on weird? Yes.

     Would he do it again? Most likely not.

     Would it affect his relationship with Martha and George? Probably not, although he hadn’t really had much of a relationship with them outside of just them being Alex’s parents.

     Would it affect his relationship with _Alex_? This was a little harder to answer, but Lafayette came to the conclusion that Alex’s blow-up over Facebook messenger was probably partially for show. Alex was a drama queen above anything else, after all.

     But did Lafayette regret it?

     He shut his eyes tight, turning his face up against the stream up hot water, and decided that, no, he didn’t. Martha and George seemed to be handling it well, they’d had a fun time – a _very_ fun time – and it wasn’t like this would be a reoccurring problem or anything.

     Lafayette smiled. Ah, he loved it when one-night stands weren’t messy and complicated. He frowned, and then looked down. Was that a hickey on his inner thigh?

 

     When he finished showering and went to the Washingtons’ bedroom to get dressed, he found that the bed was made, and that his clothes were folded neatly. He smiled to himself. The pros of sleeping with actual grown-ass adults.

     He remembered, to his dismay, that he’d been wearing a reindeer costume. He _had_ been at a Christmas party the night before. The antlers had long been lost somewhere on the way, and Lafayette could vaguely remember George tearing off Lafayette’s necklace – a red ribbon with a little bell attached – at the bar.

     Lafayette blinked. The bar. It had started at the bar. That’s right. They’d been talking, and Lafayette had been swaying a little too close to them to be polite, and then… And then, somehow, they’d wound up near the bathrooms, and someone had kissed him, although he couldn’t remember who, and then they had _both_ been kissing him, and then someone – who was it? A female voice drifted through Lafayette’s memory. Martha, then, so it was Martha – Martha had suggested they go back to their place, and Lafayette had readily agreed.

     Lafayette couldn’t remember the taxi ride home, nor could he remember arriving at the Washingtons’. He could remember snippets of what had happened _at_ the Washingtons’, and those were some pretty good memories, but that was all.

     He dressed. Without the make-up, the antlers, and the bell, the whole reindeer vibe was, thankfully, much less prominent. But brown jeans, brown Converses and a brown tank top – with a white circle in the middle – were not a look he would normally choose to go for. He was just about to walk out of the bedroom before he remembered that there was a little pom-pom tail still pinned to the jeans. He made sure to take that off. Jesus Christ. The lengths to which he went to try to seduce his housemates.

     But that was a whole other thing altogether. He was still far too hungover to try to deal with that right now.

     He hesitated, before slipping George’s hoodie back on. It was still way too cold to be wearing a tank top.

     He headed back out to the kitchen, where George and Martha were cleaning up. The couple weren’t speaking, but Lafayette could only feel a sense of calmness in the room. Martha hummed to herself as she packed to dishwasher, and George ran the plates and cup under the tap before passing them to his wife. It was homely. It was comfortable. It was so unlike Lafayette’s apartment that he shared with Alex, John and Hercules. There were pockets of serenity there, but only one look in the front room was needed to know that it was the apartment of college boys. It was never totally clean. It only had the bare necessities. But to Lafayette, it was home. This was nice, but it wasn’t home.

     Lafayette shuffled a little closer, and the Washingtons looked over to him. “You look a lot better,” Martha said brightly. “How are you feeling?”

     “ _Oui_ , better,” Lafayette said, even though his hair was a little more on the wet side of damp, and would be for the next few hours. He glanced towards the kitchen door. “I should probably go. I don’t want to, uh, overstay my welcome.”

     “We’ll pay for a taxi for you,” George said.

     “No, it’s fine, I can walk.”

     Martha rolled her eyes, smiling. “We’re not going to force you to do the walk of shame, Gilbert. Especially not in this weather.”

     A taxi did sound a lot nicer than walking. “I couldn’t ask you to pay for it.”

     “You made us breakfast,” George countered.

     If George had been Alex, Lafayette would’ve shot back, _Using your food. Shut up_. But instead, he just paused, and then said, “That is very generous of you. Thank you.”

     “Don’t mention it,” Martha said.

 

     Lafayette felt that the goodbye should have been more awkward than it was. Martha had given him a kiss on the cheek, and then given her husband a pointed look. George had hesitated, but then he’d given Lafayette a kiss on the cheek, too. He’d offered to let Lafayette keep the hoodie, and just give it to Alex to give back to him later, but Lafayette had declined. Sleeping with his friend’s parents was bad enough – but coming home wearing his friend’s father’s college hoodie would just be pushing his luck.

 

     Two days later, Lafayette stepped out of the bathroom after just having showered, wearing only a pair boxers, scrubbing at his hair with a towel. He passed Alex in the hallway, who, of course, not-so-subtly checked him out. Alex’s eyes swept down his body, and then he paused, stopping in his tracks. “Hey, Laf, what is on your leg?”

     Lafayette followed his gaze, and stuck out his knee to inspect his thigh. “Uh, it’s a hickey.”

     Alex frowned. “A hickey? Where did you–” Then he leant back sharply, looking absolutely disgusted. “Oh, God. Please don’t tell me you got that from my parents.”

     “Then I won’t say anything,” Lafayette said with a smile, continuing his journey to his bedroom. “By the way, your father said I was very talented.”

     He couldn’t help but grin at the sound of Alex gagging.


End file.
